My Definition of Normal

Splat!

You take steps to protect yourself if it happens while praying fervently that it won’t.

It happens.

I was not-so-nicely reminded of this ‘phenomenon’ while walking down the bustling street downtown. When I say bustling, it not only means bustling with people. It also means bustling with BIRDS.

That sheer loudness of their calls is enough to warn you off the street, but things have to be done and paths have to be trodden on. Most pedestrians I saw either were too engrossed in conversations with their shopping partners or are totally oblivious to the gathering overhead.

I understand how we want our cities to be greener, so I can’t really blame the government for not sending their men to prune the trees. However, the presence of thousands of our winged friends clustering above a busy shopping district does tell us that something is wrong, doesn’t it? Either there are no other lush green trees to nest on on this tiny island, or someone is shooting them down at other more secluded locations to prevent people from getting shot

Anyway, as I was plodding down the footpath to get to the other mall (I was running an errand for mum), I was alarmed by the chirping and twittering. Grimacing, I instinctively put my right hand on my head to shield my precious black locks from any white intruders (come to think of it, bird droppings stand out more on black hair). The white splatters on the ground did nothing to soothe the anguish that was building up inside me. Please, please, don’t poop right now, bird(s). I didn’t have to fret for long.

SPLAT!

I flinched at the impact. Something yellow, transparent and sticky was sliding down my right arm. So much for using her as a shield. Poor girl. Grumbling under my breath, I reached my left hand into my bag to fish for tissues. There are cons to going out alone, it seems. The right hand was still on my head, the birds still catching up with each other after a long hard day.

Splat! Splat! Splat!

I was at a traffic light junction and couldn’t wish to be indoors more than ever. There were trees on my left and right and the footpath was decorated with tiny white spots. The frequent splats made me horrendously uncomfortable. Come on, green man! Where are you?

As soon as the green light flashed, I dashed into the building, wiping my arm roughly as I entered. There’s a patch of torn skin there and I wonder if it’s from the impact of the dropping or if the dropping is corrosive…